Peace Offerings
by ncfan
Summary: Nemu attempts to reach out; Ishida is, at best, semi-responsive.


**Pairing: **Slight Ishida x Nemu, but only if you want to see it that way. It's more of an attempted friendship.**  
Warning/Spoilers: **Set during the Hueco Mundo Arc.**  
Author's Note: **It just makes sense to me that Nemu would try to reach out to the one person who (on-camera, and unfortunately, I suspect, in the entire canon) gave a damn about her well-being. Hence, this oneshot. Another note: Nemu fails at normal social interaction _forever_. Justified, considering how shy she is.**  
Disclaimer:** I don't own Bleach.

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The rubble littered the sandy ground, blood making the sand run red. Nemu clenched the plastic bottle in her hand as she stumbled, her still weak legs trembling like jelly in the aftermath of the battle.

"Quincy-san?" She knelt down by Ishida, who sat leaning against a piece of rubble, his glazed eyes staring off into the distance. He was still pasty pale with circles under his eyes; Nemu could sympathize.

Nemu got Ishida's attention gradually; it seemed the damage of having most of his inner organs crushed (Nemu could only assume that the Arrancar had missed or spared his heart and lungs for him to still be alive) was finally catching up to him.

"The healing process is nearly complete," Nemu explained, slight fingers twisting around the neck of the bottle, "but I wouldn't advise trying to stand or move just yet. You'll be able to join Abarai-san in about half an hour."

The young man nodded, saying nothing. Uncomfortable anger radiated off of him, sharp and fluctuating, and while it wasn't being directed at Nemu, she knew full well who it _was_ being directed at.

Nemu's father was a cruel man. She knew that. If someone hated Mayuri-sama, than while she didn't agree with it, she was objective enough to see why. Knowing Ishida's background, she doubted he was capable of forgiving him.

Kurotsuchi Mayuri also had a less than winning personality, and that was an understatement; Nemu had watched for years as he made enemies out of allies and alienated anyone who could have assisted him and supported him in the public eye.

She stopped thinking of that. Nemu was over there for a reason. "Quincy-san? Take this." She held out the bottle, a small, long-necked light green plastic bottle, unmarked and plain. "Use it the next time you take a bath; it should remove the bacteria Mayuri-sama put in place for surveillance."

That cued a decidedly suspicious look, first at her and then at the bottle; Ishida seemed to withdraw without moving, tensing and waiting for an attack. It was clearly obvious that he knew it wasn't coming from her, and his face soured at the very mention of the word "surveillance".

Nemu bit her lip, fidgeting with her skirt. "Please, take it. I promise, it isn't harmful as long as you don't ingest it or get it in your eyes, and it will work."

Finally, he spoke, quiet as his eyes focused on something beyond Nemu's right shoulder. "I don't think you're lying, Kurotsuchi-san," Ishida admitted, and the politeness quickly drained out of his face and voice as he glared at whatever it was he was seeing beyond Nemu's shoulder. "But I think _he_ is."

Nemu flinched as she turned around and saw her father rooting amongst the rubble, cackling as he came up with a particularly interesting artifact, pocketing it and moving on to the next pile of shattered stone and wood.

Turning back to Ishida, Nemu tried again, reaching for a way to convince him that she was being genuine. "For Mayuri-sama," Nemu started slowly, gathering her thoughts and her words, "a great deal of the enjoyment he finds in conducting surveillance on those he finds interesting—" Ishida pulled a face at the word 'interesting' "—is their ignorance of the fact that they are being watched. Now that you know…"

"…Kurotsuchi has ceased to take any _enjoyment_ in watching me?" Ishida's voice dripped disgust and scorn as he squirmed uncomfortably at the very thought of it; his feeling of violation were made painfully plain. At the same time, he wasn't looking at her, just past her, and while that didn't encourage Nemu greatly, it did give her a spot of hope. "I'm sorry, Kurotsuchi-san, but I can't take that risk."

Nemu smiled sadly. "You said it yourself," she murmured, looking down. "You don't think I'm lying." She held out the bottle again.

This time, Ishida took the bottle, pocketing it as he let out a small sigh and nodding slightly. "Thank you. But I hope you won't be making it a habit to stick your neck out for me."

Nemu decided not to tell him that she had gotten Mayuri's blessing before offering him the bottle to use.

"Your Quincy powers seem to have recovered." Nemu broached the subject hesitantly, biting her lip. She had taken over surveillance from Mayuri during Ishida's training sessions with his father, and wasn't confident he'd have a good reaction to that topic being brought up, when the reason he had _lost_ his Quincy powers in the first place and what he had had to do to get them back was taken into account.

Ishida nodded warily. "Yes." The way he stiffened indicated that he had forgotten neither of those things, and he settled back down into deep contemplation, barely acknowledging her existence. Or maybe it was just the inevitable feeling of not being quite there that came with a good portion of his body essentially being destroyed.

The sharp words he and his father had exchanged, the barely suppressed animosity and his father's frigid demeanor combined with Ishida's angry striving… Nemu remembered it all, hurtful like an acid rain and corrosive like a decaying battery. She briefly wondered what it was that had made Ishida's relationship with his father so poor, but decided not to ask. There were some things that should never be asked.

"I'm…glad," Nemu acknowledged, smiling again that small, twitching smile, the feeling unfamiliar on her face.

Ishida looked up, startled. Then, his face softened slightly. "Thank you, Kurotsuchi-san."


End file.
